


A Gift of Opportunity

by leathansparrow



Series: Opportunity-verse [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Konoha's got 101 problems and Uchihas are almost all of them, M/M, Multi, Pining, alternate universe - almost everybody lives/nobody dies, contempt for martyrism, poor communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leathansparrow/pseuds/leathansparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uchiha Itachi goes to his final death with his plans for his brother's future in shatters.  His only hope: one desperate gamble on his brother's best friend. </p><p>He does not expect to wake up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift of Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to one-go-alone for betaing this for me. :)

Itachi never expects to wake up. 

After the waking nightmare that was Edo Tensei, after going to his final rest with only a single remaining hope-that Naruto, his brother’s only friend, could somehow fix everything he has done-he expects to remain trapped within his own personal hell. He expects his death to be the continued recreation of every failure, every mistake, every wound he’s wrought upon his brother’s heart. 

His plans should have worked. Sasuke was never supposed to know the truth, and yet that has failed. Sasuke was never supposed to turn on Konoha; that too has failed. Every minute piece of Itachi’s terrible, desperate plan has failed.

He should have known; his little brother is too stubborn to simply follow directions. How could he have so blindly assumed Sasuke would fall so easily into place? 

He did as a child, but he isn’t a child anymore. Itachi knows he underestimated what the damage he caused his brother might create. Thus, his personal nightmare of his failures. If this is hell, then of course this would be his fate. 

For all his plans he is left with one slim hope: that Naruto can do through sheer force of will what Itachi could not through years of careful planning and sacrifice. In a way it galls him. Were it anyone else he would resent such a twist. 

Naruto is unlike anyone he has ever encountered, and thus Itachi can, inexplicably, trust him with this. He couldn’t even trust himself with this. 

In the constant whirl of nightmare, this land strewn with the corpses of his failures and lit by an unattainable hope, he never expects to wake up. 

The strangest thing is that when he does wake up, he can actually see. 

Hazily. The bright lights and clean white walls hurt his eyes. The expected dimming of his vision is still there, but less pronounced than it has been. His first instinct is confusion. There is no one else in the room and thus he relaxes his worthless guard. He finds very quickly that he could not move to defend himself if he tried. Even at the bitter end of his life he never felt so weak. 

Has he passed through purgatory then? Have whatever cruel gods exist in this damned world given him a short reprieve from the nightmare hell in his mind? Should he expect to see his mother in the doorway in a moment with a smile on her face, ready to forgive him his ultimate betrayal? Will he find Shusui laughing at his side and welcoming him home? 

That idea is barely less a hell than the one he just left. 

That he might be alive is an impossible thought that doesn’t even occur to him. 

So when the Fifth Hokage enters his room with a clipboard, he feels no restraint in parting his dry-crusted lips, breathing into his rusted throat, and saying: “I didn’t realize I would need a doctor in hell.”

The Fifth drops her clipboard. 

She retrieves it quickly enough, though her start turns paranoid gears in Itachi’s mind that make him tense. Tensing makes him ache. He can move barely more than a finger and yet the instinctual sense that something might not be as it seems has him trying to. He tries to call the Sharingan to him, tries to see through the illusion he suddenly realizes must be upon him.

His eyes burn. He screams. 

The Hokage yells something. A soothing pulse of chakra sends waves through Itachi’s exhausted mind. He can’t resist it. He tries to resist it but he is too weak. He has a second for true terror to take hold of him before he is returned to his nightmare world alone. 

But this time in his nightmares a second tiny star of hope flickers. 

Is it somehow possible that he isn’t actually dead?

\-----

If he isn’t dead, then that complicates things. He chooses not to muse on how he might have survived; some impossible miracle seems the only explanation and if he is alive then the method is no longer his concern. Where he is, who has his body, and whether they are the enemy, those are more pressing matters. 

His brief time awake gives him only the bare minimum of reference. When he wakes the second time, calculations and possibilities run races through his head and leave him three immediate requirements.

1\. He must ensure his captors do not realize he is observing them as long as possible. 

2\. He must assess the physical state of his body and his options accordingly. 

He comes to the quick and worrying conclusion that he has few, as the effort it takes to even move his fingers is exhausting. He knows better than to try and activate his Sharingan. That would violate requirement 1. He cannot alert anyone to the fact that he is awake. He cannot allow himself to be so debilitated by pain again. Not yet.

3\. He must determine exactly where he is and who holds him. 

The presence of the Fifth Hokage could suggest he is in Konoha and possibly some dubious degree of safe, assuming he remains asleep and harmless to them. He cannot imagine they would be so careless with him otherwise, which leads him to the conclusion that his body must be in dire condition indeed. They must know as well as he does that he doesn’t have the strength to fight them. 

Irritating. 

The Fifth Hokage’s presence could as easily be an illusion meant to trick him into a false sense of security. Without his Sharingan, as weak as he is, he cannot so easily tell. Thus he must watch for other clues. Frustratingly he does not know the Fifth Hokage well enough to determine strictly from her behavior whether she is an illusion or not. If he is not in Konoha’s hands….

Well, if he is not in Konoha’s hands, then perhaps he would have been better off remaining in the personal hell of his dreams rather than waking at all. He cannot conclude that anything good will come of him being in the hands of anyone else. He knows the worth of his body; one of the last true heirs to the Sharingan holds a myriad of secrets even in death. He finds himself put off that no one thought to dispose of him when they had the chance. 

In his secret waking moments he watches several people enter and exit his room. He recognizes several of them. The Fifth Hokage, Sakura: the pink-haired girl who accompanied Naruto, the Hokage’s dark-haired assistant. All powerful medic-nins. 

For what Itachi thinks are two days (there is little way to tell between the few minutes he can bear to be awake and the lost time of his dream), no one else comes. Itachi has the time to wonder where his brother is, whether he survived, whether Naruto succeeded where he could not. It is clear enough that the war is over. Such powerful healers would never be so casually at the disposal of the lost cause they must think he is if they were needed elsewhere. What do they intend to do with him, he wonders? Do they intend to keep him here wasting in this bed on the slim hope he might revive forever?

An infuriating thought. Even suffering his illness, Itachi has never been still in his life.

There are two dire questions rotating in his mind when he is alone. His illness. Why doesn’t he feel the pain of it eating at his chest? He feels as if he can actually breathe for the first time in months, and he is certain his heart gave out during his battle with his brother. So why can’t he feel it now? 

His second question: his eyes. Why can he see? Not only was his eyesight far worse when he last remembers standing, he is certain Sasuke should have taken his eyes. The terrifying thought that he didn’t stabs at Itachi’s chest for a moment before he realizes that Sasuke did. Itachi remembers his brief stint as an Edo Tensei and he knows that Sasuke took his eyes. So how in the hell can he see? How can he even reach for the Sharingan at all? That shouldn’t be possible, and thus Itachi falls back into the conclusion that he must be within an illusion he cannot break. Without his eyes he has little hope of shattering the delusions he sees, especially so long as his weakness persists. 

His current eyes do suffer a slight glazing at the edges. His vision isn’t perfect. But he shouldn’t have eyes at all. Did someone….

No. That can’t be possible. 

But how else—

Who would waste an Uchiha’s eyes on a corpse?

Itachi’s heart fills with dread. If someone did, then what could they possibly want with him? 

\-------

On what he believes is the third day, the pattern changes. Itachi is in his vaguely awake, silently observing state when two new, highly recognizable people enter the room. 

The pink-haired girl, Sakura, is uncharacteristically gentle. The hazy curve of her smile is one of professional and yet genuine sympathy as she opens the door and allows the other two inside. Bright yellow and orange are Itachi’s first impression. He recognizes Naruto instantly and takes quick stock of him. His right sleeve is empty. Bandages peek out from beneath the collar of his shirt. Dark circles shadow beneath his eyes. He looks tired, but somehow content. 

By his side, Itachi’s brother looks hopeless. His dark eyes are blank of emotion. He’s a matched set with Naruto, his left arm missing in contrast to Naruto’s right. Itachi’s immediate reaction is vengeance: who dared hurt his baby brother like that? Where are they? How long will it take to find and wish upon them the very same pain? His second is to thank every god/spirit/turn of fate/coincidence that Sasuke is alive. Sasuke is alive and here with his two closest friends and there is a slim, but possible chance for his happiness. 

That is more than Itachi could give him. It seems his tiny, hopeless hope was not for nothing. 

“He still hasn’t woken?” They’re talking about him. Itachi lets himself listen; the paranoid little voice in his mind that still whispers this must be an illusion seeks out any possible clue. But if Sasuke is here and alive and safe in this delusion then perhaps Itachi can live with it. He would rather live a lie in that hope than return to his world of nightmares. 

Kisame would be ashamed of him. 

“Sasuke…”

Sakura places a comforting, silencing hand on Naruto’s good shoulder. “We’ve done everything we can short of letting him rest,” she tells Sasuke. “But if he was gone so far as to be trapped by Edo Tensei then…”

“…he might never….” Sasuke turns away. Itachi can see his brother’s shoulders shaking and wishes he could speak. Wishes he could reach out and tell Sasuke he’s alive. That he’s right here, awake, listening to him. 

Fear of the possibility of a lie holds him back. 

Not yet, whispers his mind. Not yet. 

“There’s still a chance.” Naruto’s firm conviction washes over Itachi like a drug. Worse, like hope. Hope is the worst drug. It makes Itachi want to open his eyes and validate it. 

He can’t just yet. 

“He’s alive Sasuke. As long as he is, there’s a chance he could wake up.”

Sasuke nods slowly. As they leave he asks Sakura to tell him about Itachi’s prognosis and Itachi’s ears prick to the tune of a real medic-nin’s assessment. He survived on barely legal drugs prescribed by doctors who shouldn’t have been practicing before. He could never entirely trust them, nor was he willing to return to them enough for a full diagnosis. Most doctors who were also missing-nin were not the sort he wanted close to him for longer than the few moments he had to be in order to survive. 

He catches something about an autoimmune disease and remission before the door closes and breathes a sigh of relief. Remission. Meaning his disease is under control. Still present, but there is some hope that he can manage in the future.

What is he thinking, “manage in the future?” It almost sounds as if he believes he has a future. That in itself is a terrifying concept to contemplate. 

He might actually have a future.

Assuming this isn’t all a dream.

\-------

It is Sakura who finally forces Itachi to admit he is awake. Worse, she has clearly known of his games for days. “It would be much easier to treat you if you would stop pretending to be unconscious,” she remarks irritably as she replaces the clipboard in its slot along the wall and leaves the room. She gives him a Look as she does so. Itachi realizes immediately that if she knows, so must the entire staff that has been treating him.

If they don’t, then perhaps he should be giving Sasuke’s companion more credit than he has. 

He doesn’t bother with his illusion the next time she enters. He does for the Fifth and her assistant, but not for Sakura. He doesn’t see much point, and he supposes for all she’s done for him she deserves some indication of his respect. 

“Do you want me to tell Sasuke?” she asks him. He can’t sit up yet, not without assistance. At his request she gives him a full rundown of his diagnosis, more information than his few days of spying have revealed. A chronic autoimmune disorder currently in remission but likely to reappear if he stresses himself too severely. A series of healing injuries resulting from his fight with his brother combined with severe organ damage as a result of said illness. He should be dead, she tells him. Edo Tensei isn’t supposed to revive the living, but Itachi suspects if his body was so far gone, then his soul must have been in a limbo state delicate enough for it to ensnare him. He doesn’t really want to contemplate the details. It happened; there isn’t any reason to philosophize about it. 

His eyes are his brother’s. He can see because Sasuke insisted his own eyes be transplanted into Itachi’s, even without knowing whether Itachi would ultimately survive. So he has traded his own eyes to his brother and received Sasuke’s in return. Consequently he realizes he could now, in theory, use the Mangekyo Sharingan without facing the consequences he did before. His eyesight should not deteriorate further. His abilities, even, should be far stronger. 

His body cannot handle that, Sakura warns, reading the ideas running through his head with a disturbing ease that Itachi suspects is the result of dealing too often with his brother. Even if he regains full function and strength, using his Sharingan excessively will likely trigger a relapse of his illness. The stress the Mangekyo places on the body is too much even in its perfect state. He should expect, likely for the rest of his life, to only use it in dire emergencies.

Itachi suspects she is hesitating to tell him he should never really consider himself a ninja again. That his health will not allow it. 

Itachi finds himself surprisingly comfortable with that idea. He never expect to survive this long anyway. 

\-------

“How did I survive?”

Sakura sits with him a little bit each day. To Itachi’s surprise and gratitude she has not revealed his secret to anyone of consequence. She agreed not to tell his brother with an ease that makes Itachi wonder which of them she thinks she’s actually protecting, but it seems she is used to keeping Sasuke’s secrets. And secrets that Sasuke doesn’t need to know about.

“We’re not entirely sure,” she tells him. She did insist on telling the Fifth Hokage. Doctor’s orders; as she said they can do a great deal more to help him while he is awake and able to comply with tests and instructions on his own behalf. Itachi is aggravated by the attention, but can’t deny its worth when they tell him that, with significant physical therapy, he should be independent within the year.

Their orders seem a small price to pay for that. 

Itachi learns from Sakura how they found him. “Sasuke wanted to give you a proper burial. He didn’t know everything when he left you there, so he insisted we go back and find what we could. It seems like someone got to you first.” 

Kisame. Itachi recognizes his accidental savior by Sakura’s description. They found him in a cavern buried beneath the shattered remains of the Uchiha shrine. How Kisame managed the earth-moving jutsu necessary to build it Itachi doesn’t know, but his partner had more chakra than sense sometimes. If anyone could have done it….

“It was filled with water.” Sakura gulps. “And sharks. They must have been summons; they disappeared with a few good hits, but they shouldn’t have lasted underground like that. We think whoever buried you laced the water with their own chakra to feed them, but that—”

What she describes shouldn’t be possible. Even she doesn’t seem to believe it. To be kept at the edge of death, held in stasis by his partner’s chakra, seems like some sort of fairytale answer Itachi isn’t ready to contemplate further. “I don’t think whoever did it knew you were alive. They might have just wanted to protect your body. If I hadn’t been there—”

Without a uniquely powerful medical ninja capable of sustaining him or recognizing his condition, he would have been dead in moments. 

Itachi doesn’t pry further. He doesn’t want to; he suspects he knows the answer to the question he is desperate to ask, but he doesn’t want to hear it. That Kisame could have built him such a tomb does not surprise him. That Kisame would have built him such a tomb surprises him less. 

That Kisame isn’t at his side, nor has he heard any word of him….

He fears his partner must be dead; he didn’t expect to mourn him, but he does. He doesn’t wish to mourn him honestly, so he pretends. As long as he doesn’t ask, the possibility exists that Kisame might be alive. For all their distance, Itachi can only name Kisame as a person whom he truly believed he could trust. Kisame is the one person in his life whom he was never betrayed by, nor ever forced to betray. 

The lack of his existence is a terrible notion Itachi doesn’t want to face. Not yet. 

He learns other things from Sakura. He learns a great deal from her, actually. How the war ended, how the village is rebuilding, that he is in Konoha and not locked in a dungeon with an illusion playing in his head. 

(She can’t quite prove that, but Itachi figures that if his captors are willing to drag this illusion so far, he has little reason to fight it. It isn’t like he physically can yet.)

Yet.

Itachi learns that the Fifth Hokage is no longer Hokage and that Hatake Kakashi, of all people, has taken her place. He suspects Nartuo, his brother’s impossible friend, is biting at the reins, but somehow that knowledge settles Itachi. They haven’t asked a child to step into those shoes. Someday, when he is ready, Itachi suspects Kakashi will quite willingly step down in Naruto’s favor. The boy has undeniably proven himself to the village, but not yet. 

Not until he’s ready. 

One more child won’t be forced into an impossible position without a care for their youth. 

Sakura is kind enough to bring him books and have a prescription taken for glasses for him. She even gets him a pair that he doesn’t mind the look of. Either she has naturally excellent taste or Itachi humorlessly suspects she’s imagined his brother in them before and has had the time to think of what would look best. 

How she feels about Itachi’s little brother is obvious, but tempered by what Itachi considers healthy caution. Itachi isn’t sure he is any kind of authority on “healthy” anything regarding a person’s mental state, but she doesn’t fawn over Sasuke when she speaks of him. If anything she sounds as if she would have, once, and has accepted that her illusions weren’t the boy she cares for. She sounds, if anything, more genuinely affectionate when she speaks of Naruto, but it isn’t the same kind of affection. Itachi wonders when he learned to recognize the difference between care, trust, and love like she has for Naruto, and the deeper longing of an attraction that cannot be denied, and yet equally cannot be.

Perhaps it is because he felt the same for Kisame once, and knew that he was in no healthy place to act upon his affection. He couldn’t do that to a man he cared for when he knew that he intended to die.

Now here he is watching similar caution on the face of another and wondering what could have been if he had just taken the chance. What could have been if Kisame had…

…lived.

Itachi slowly accepts the hints, the pitying looks, the unfounded guilt in Sakura’s voice, not for Kisame himself but because Itachi cared. He slowly accepts what must be the truth. His partner is dead.

Itachi will never know what could have been between them. 

All he has now is some feeble hope that his brother wants him to live for reasons beyond revenge. He has evidence enough of that truth. 

It is still two weeks of waking, reading, learning what he can through Sakura’s patience, before he is ready to see his brother face to face. All the while Sakura keeps his secret, and Itachi prepares for something he never expected to have.

A welcome home.

\--------

His welcome home is exhausting. Thankfully, Sakura is kind enough to warn Itachi before it happens. “I’ve been putting them off for weeks.” She crosses her arms and taps her fingers. “Naruto has been suspicious for half of that. He can’t keep a secret to save his life, so of course Sasuke is suspicious too. I can keep putting them off, but you’re going to have to deal with them. You can choose a time you want, or—”

“You can tell them.” Itachi decides she is right. He can’t put off seeing his brother again much longer, and better for it to be on his own terms if that is possible. 

Sakura looks relieved. “I can still kick them out if it’s too much.”

“You’re too kind to me.”

She smiles. “Don’t get me wrong, I know what you’ve done. But Sasuke deserves a chance to be happy. We all do. And even if you don’t think you’ve been punished enough yet, I’m sure by the end of this you will be.”

Itachi is relatively certain she isn’t wrong. That she isn’t is a comfort he didn’t expect to feel. 

\-----------

Though they let Sasuke enter first, both Naruto and Sakura are quick at his heels with the wary trepidation of two people who don’t entirely know what to expect. Itachi can’t blame them. None of his meetings with his little brother have gone as expected, or as planned, and so their readiness for any kind of reaction is warranted. 

Itachi feels a little more comfortable knowing someone else is as nervous as he refuses to show he is. 

Sasuke stops in the doorway as if looking into a dream. As if he doesn’t entirely believe what he is seeing: his elder brother sitting propped up in a bed watching him with as neutral an expression as Itachi can muster in his current state. He knows he must look exhausted. Ill, too, because he’s been that and he hasn’t had much opportunity yet to regain his strength. 

This is the first time Sasuke has seen him without a weapon in hand and his Sharingan coloring his eyes since they parted in Itachi’s death. In a way, Sasuke is meeting an entirely new person. 

If he is, then at least some of Itachi’s plans have succeeded. If he had succeeded for real, then Sasuke would never have met this him. 

“Brother?” Sasuke asks. A myriad of emotions color his voice. Too many for Itachi to process at the moment. Too many for him to adequately analyze and respond to.

“Hello little brother.”

Cruel and dark humor tempts him to add “foolish” to his greeting, but that is too loaded a word for it to be appropriate right now. It is odd how a lifetime goading his brother still comes back to haunt him in such a delicate moment, to suggest such a thing to him. It shows him just how deep he was forced to fall, how carefully he molded his own mind to his goals, and how difficult it is to simply erase the past he created in this one miracle chance he has been given. 

His brother doesn’t see it that way. Blinded by guilt, by relief, by the beloved image of a brother he thought lost rekindled as a hero in his deluded mind, Sasuke takes one cautious step forward. Then another.

Then he rushes to Itachi’s bedside and flings arms around him as if he is still eight years old and none of the horrors between them ever existed. 

His weight hurts. The tightness of his arms hurts, but Itachi accepts the bruises. He accepts the pain in recompense for the evils his brother has ignored on his behalf. There will be time, oh so much time now, to remind Sasuke of what he has done. Of the truth of what he is. To unwind the tangled illusions in his brother’s head until he is no longer prey to them. 

For now he holds his brother close, relishing the opportunity he never thought to have, as Sakura and Naruto look on with gentle, relieved smiles on their faces. 

Itachi lets Sasuke have this moment, because his little brother deserves so much from him. He deserves nothing less than this: the image of all of his trials, all of the mess Itachi has made of his life, at an end. 

As he always has, Itachi takes the punishment he deserves for the sake of his brother’s happiness. This time he hopes he is at last doing the right thing. 

\-----------

Sasuke visits almost daily. Were it not for the chance to see his brother Itachi would fall to exhaustion, for he is not used to such company. Sakura’s visits have been easy compared to these. Itachi finds himself near panic as the day drags along. The longer he waits for Sasuke to knock on his door the more tense he feels, the tighter his throat feels, the more his skin prickles. 

Sakura tells him to relax. Sasuke isn’t going to do anything stupid. Yet Itachi can tell she understands. Equally she understands she can’t stop his unconscious fears nor take the stress from him. 

It is never until after Sasuke leaves that Itachi can breathe a sigh of relief. That all of the wound up tension releases like a flood that exhausts him into sleep until the pattern repeats the next day. The days when Sasuke doesn’t make it are the worst. Itachi can barely sleep, still half-expecting Sasuke to knock on his door, until his still infirm body can no longer handle it and he falls asleep anyway. 

He wakes the next day feeling worse.

Sometimes when Sasuke visits, they talk. Sometimes they don’t, but they sit in each other’s presence and wait for the right moment, the right invitation, to broach the myriad injuries between them. 

“I don’t blame you, not anymore.”

Itachi hates that the most. I don’t blame you. He wants to laugh at his brother, but there is an earnest offer of peace in those words, and Itachi can’t bear to drive a deeper wedge between them. Not long ago he would have. He would have used Sasuke’s naivety as a weapon to drive them further apart, to ensure Sasuke could never forgive him. For Sasuke to forgive him, that would mean he knows the truth. Worse, he has accepted Itachi’s actions without acknowledging the awful consequence of them, nor the ultimate betrayal in them. 

“I did kill them Sasuke.” Itachi’s spine straightens defensively where he sits. It is too easy for Sasuke to dismiss his actions as the orders of his superiors. What does Sasuke think he is, a mindless automaton? Entirely without his own mind? Unaware of what his actions actually meant? 

Would Sasuke have made a martyr of him, had he actually died? 

“But I know why. You did it to protect everyone. Brother, I don’t think anyone could have done what you did. I don’t think I—”

“I would hope you couldn’t have,” Itachi retorts blandly. He bites back anger at the thought that Sasuke might have been put in such a position. Anyone who dares try to place him there will now have to suffer the displeasure of dealing with him instead. 

“I’m sorry brother,” Sasuke says. That hurts the worst, hearing Sasuke apologize to him. As if Sasuke was at fault for this. “I should have believed in you.”

“I didn’t want you to.” 

“But I knew you. I should have known you wouldn’t do that willingly.”

Such blind forgiveness. 

Itachi feels his neck twinge and resists the urge to rub at it. He hasn’t sat this straight for so long since he woke and he can feel the beginnings of discomfort. “The fact remains Sasuke, that I did kill our family. Whatever the reason that sin is still upon me.”

“They ordered you to do it,” Sasuke insists, and Itachi knows his brother cannot understand. The truth of the Uchiha Massacre has given his brother a wink of hope in the darkness, that the brother he idolized was not the monster he became. But truth remains truth.

Kisame hated this world of lies. Perhaps it is thoughts of him that give Itachi the strength to reject his brother’s delusions and maintain his own truth. “I could have refused Sasuke.” Itachi closes his stinging eyes. 

“But then—”

“There would have been other consequences.”

“You did what you had to do. You made the best of an impossible situation.”

“I chose your life and the faint glimmer of hope for our family’s honor over their lives Sasuke. I chose our nation over family loyalty. I chose to kill them. I cannot force you to accept that, but it is the truth none the less.” 

Sasuke watches him silently. At last Itachi can no longer hide the pain he feels maintaining his strength in his brother’s presence and of course Sasuke notices. “Lay back brother.” He gently pushes Itachi back into the pillows. “You’re tired.” 

It galls Itachi to show such weakness, even knowing his brother only wants him safe now. Thousands of days running in shadows have left too many deep marks on his sanity.

Itachi reaches for his brother. Unable to reach his forehead, he instead pokes Sasuke’s hand where it rests against his chest. “I am sorry, Sasuke.” He’ll be sorry as long as he lives. Whatever fate Sasuke or the village decides for him he will accept. He’s finished running. He doesn’t have the strength or a reason to run any longer. He is, in the end, a murderer on a scale the village cannot ignore. He’s no hero, no matter what his brother wants to pretend. 

Sasuke may never understand that. Strangely, no one might ever understand that. So perhaps it is Itachi’s duty now to remind them. To symbolize the consequences of the impossible choice duty and loyalty might ask of a ninja. To serve as some fucked-up Aesop to remind the upper echelons of the consequences of impossible orders. Itachi supposes if his life can remind the Hokage and their council to never try something like that again, then it might serve some purpose. 

Though if Naruto is to become Hokage, perhaps that reminder will be unnecessary. Itachi hopes it will be. 

Sasuke turns their hands so he can grip Itachi’s tight. “I know,” he replies, as he bows his head to press his forehead to Itachi’s. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do what you wanted of me.”

Itachi smiles. “I should have known you wouldn’t follow my directions.” 

“They weren’t very good directions.”

“No.” Itachi closes his eyes and relishes the warmth of his brother’s life and affection. The impossibility that he can have this, that he is alive to know he has this. He has only this. It’s enough. 

If it is for the sake of his brother’s heart, than he can live a thousand years. Sasuke deserves so much from him, after all the suffering, the mistakes, the tragedy Itachi has caused him. Itachi can find reason to live for the sake of protecting that heart. 

He can face anything to protect that. Do anything to protect that.

And this time, he can hold himself back to protect that. There are no secrets between them now, no illusions, no games. No more running and hiding. Illusions could not protect his brother, so now Itachi vows that truth will. 

Kisame has rubbed off on him more than he thought. 

\--------

Two months pass, and though Itachi still finds himself living in Konoha’s hospital, his freedoms have increased. His brother’s friends are diligent pests that keep him adequate company and serve as reminders of the future he now has. His brother’s visits lose their unbearable tension; though there is still strain between them Itachi no longer both dreads and anticipates Sasuke’s presence. Sasuke no longer tries to be with him each and every day. 

It’s good. It’s easier. It’s… some degree of normal. 

Between therapy and the demands of his weakened body, Itachi spends most of the time he can reading in the small garden behind the hospital. It’s simple: a small traditional porch open to a pond overhung with an ancient, gnarled willow that Itachi would rather be sitting in than beneath. Chimes ring with puffs of wind that carries hints of the town to him: the dust of the streets, savory scents of street-side grills and restaurants, the low electric hum of wires. He is protected from that activity by wooden walls, but he can experience it. It is a comforting limbo, much like the time he continues to spend here. 

Sasuke has asked him when he’ll be well enough to leave. Itachi senses the second question he wants to ask but hasn’t yet: when will you move in with me?

Itachi thanks the absolute blessing that is Sakura for the fact that Sasuke has not had the opportunity to ask officially yet. Her quick, forceful reminders of Itachi’s condition allow Itachi the opportunity to put off an answer. In the hospital he has his space, guaranteed by both the strict security of an intelligent Hokage that understandably does not trust him and the hospital staff’s own diligent vigilance. If he were just about any other patient, he certainly wouldn’t be so isolated.

It has been years. Eight long and very difficult years, since Itachi has socialized with anyone in anything even remotely like a normal setting. Though he knows his current isolation is nothing less than hospital arrest, he prefers it to the alternative. He is not ready to deal with… people. 

Moving in with Sasuke would mean dealing with regular people. Worse, it would mean dealing with Sasuke in a very close setting. They have not been near each other for years. Neither know the other’s habits, likes, dislikes, anything of true intimate consequence. They have no idea how to be brothers, let alone roommates, let alone how to handle the adults they have become. They are, in a sense, entirely new people to each other. 

Sasuke was eight years old when Itachi murdered their family and left him. He has changed so much. Itachi knows he has changed too.

So until he has some real independence, until he is capable of moving around for more than an hour without exhausting himself, Itachi will very much appreciate and lean upon Sakura’s medical opinion. Given the option he would prefer it to go farther. He would rather be physically capable of defending himself before he leaves this sanctuary. He knows better than to think all those who know he has survived are his friends, and he is too cautious to assume none of them will try to take his life given the opportunity. 

He has enemies still. He will certainly not endanger his brother by baiting them to Sasuke’s home. Not unless he can handle their idiocy himself. 

Despite Itachi’s preference for isolation, he does appreciate the few visits he gets. Sakura’s remain professional. Sasuke’s remain both overwhelming and healing. It is Naruto’s personal visits that confuse Itachi the most.

In a way he appreciates them the most. 

“Hey!” 

Naruto always seems to know when Itachi is in the garden. He prefers to bother him there rather than in his hospital room. He hasn’t said why, but Itachi suspects Naruto prefers to see his friends where the reminders of their injuries and illnesses are not so close. 

The idea of being considered Naruto’s friend is a little terrifying.

Itachi offers Naruto a seat beside him. The little pest has brought something this time. Something Itachi is certain his nurses would forbid him from eating, but the moment Naruto learned that Itachi liked sweets, well…. There really isn’t any helping that now. 

Naruto plops down on the ground beside Itachi and offers him a warm packet. The sweet-baked scent of taiyaki makes Itachi’s mouth water. Naruto may not have the most experience with the full range of excellent sweets Konoha has to offer, but he has figured out a few things. A quick look at the maker’s mark confirms it: taiyaki from Mori-ya’s. A favorite. Itachi is tempted goad Naruto into telling him who told, but instead he savors the treat. 

“What’cha reading?” 

Between bites, Itachi shows him the book cover. It’s a biography, as close to a non-fiction account as he could manage to find between the hospital’s options and Sakura’s assistance of the life of Himura Eiko, a kunoichi from the Second Ninja War best known for uncovering an elaborate plot against the life of the Mizukage. Parts of it might be exaggerated. But then, Itachi suspects if he were born twenty years from now and read an account of the war that has just ended, he’d suspect exaggeration in that too. 

Itachi has had enough of fiction for now. Everything in the hospital library is either hedonistic romance or tragedy. One glimpse of the writing in the former was enough to tempt him to throw the book. (Or burn it. He is almost healthy enough to handle a minor fire jutsu.) The latter, well. He’s had enough of tragedy too. For a lifetime, even. 

Naruto’s visits are usually short. He chatters, usually about his friends around the village, or about recent missions, or the rebuilding. Under other circumstances Itachi might have been annoyed that Naruto hardly leaves him the chance to get a word in edge-wise, but Naruto’s chatter is oddly soothing. It’s undemanding. He doesn’t push Itachi to talk or participate. He just lets Itachi listen. 

There’s no pressure, just the subtle invitation that if he wants to, Naruto will listen to him speak in return. 

Itachi bites back an abrupt, painful chuckle. Kisame used to chatter like that. 

Naruto trails off. Itachi, only half-listening, doesn’t wonder why. 

“Hey are you okay?”

Itachi’s throat is tight. Naruto is looking at him with a whirl of emotions in his eyes. Concern is foremost among them, and abruptly Itachi finds himself flustered, unsure what he has done to earn such a look. 

He’s stopped eating. The half-eaten taiyaki is loosely griped in his lap. His eyes sting a little, but not from stress, for once. 

“Mr. Itachi?”

Itachi raises a hand to his face to rub at one of his eyes and it comes away damp. 

Damp. 

“I’m sorry Naruto. I’m not sure what came over me.” He tries to cover what he realizes is honest, open distress. Tries to bury it, for he is mortified that Naruto has seen him like this. Worse, that a passing thought of Kisame could loosen his control like this. What on earth is wrong with him?

“Is it Sasuke?” Astute of him, to realize that Itachi must be upset over a person. 

Against his will, Itachi shakes his head. “No.” He moves to stand, gathering his book and the remnants of the sweet Naruto brought him. He clearly isn’t fit for company at the moment.

A light hand on his arm stops him as he moves for the door. Shocking sympathy curves a soft smile on Naruto’s lips. “Let me help,” he requests. It takes Itachi a moment to realize all of the possible offers he might be referring to. He chooses to accept the most obvious. He allows Naruto to walk him to his room without another word. 

As Naruto turns to go, Itachi finds himself feeling inexplicably guilty for his silence. And uncharacteristically honest in his offer of peace. “I wish it was something you could help with.” 

Naruto grins at him. “You never know until you ask.” The door clicks closed behind him. 

\--------

“Naruto are you seriously here again? Don’t you have a mission today?” 

Naruto tosses Tenten a packet of senbei. They’re sesame flavored, her favorite, and exactly the kind of thing that’ll make her forget to be mad at him. Man, if he’d known food worked like a charm before, he’d have bribed his way straight through the Academy. There had to be something other than ramen Iruka liked that much right? 

“Not leaving ‘til tonight,” Naruto chirps at her. He perches himself on another chair by Neji’s bedside with a wave. “How’s my favorite genius feeling?”

Neji snorts at him. It’s a far cry from what he could do two months ago. Several surgeries, a medically induced coma, and a lot, a LOT of time in physical therapy have him at least back to semi-functional. He’s mostly staying at the hospital now for convenience of treatment, since his family’s position warrants him a private room anyway. 

Well, at least it does now that most of the easier cases have made their way home. Thank everything. Neji’s due to be discharged at the end of the week as is, which is a bummer since sneaking into the Hyuuga compound is at least three times as difficult as sneaking into the hospital. People with eyes in the backs of their heads and what not. 

“I’m fine Naruto, you know that. Weren’t you here a few hours ago?” Neji is as observant as ever, of course, and wouldn’t miss that. Damn. 

“Well, you know… not much to do until we leave, and there’s still a bunch of people here so—”

Neji isn’t buying it. Tenten rolls her eyes and eats a cracker, because she has been here for this argument and Naruto already knows she agrees with Neji, so it’s not worth saying. “You were visiting him again weren’t you.”

One of these days Naruto is going to ask Neji exactly how far through walls the Byakugan lets him see. He’s pretty sure Itachi’s room is too far away, but he isn’t totally sure. 

“Someone’s got to. It’s gotta be depressing right? Just Sasuke for company?”

“You would know.” 

“Hey.”

Tenten laughs. Then she sobers. “Naruto he’s a mass murderer. And he was a missing-nin for eight years. You can’t tell us he’s not a little bit—”

“Messed up?” Naruto pulls a face. Then he remembers the half-stunned, half-grieving look on Itachi’s face just a little bit earlier and it just gets to him. Worse, it gets to him the way Itachi didn’t even seem to realize that he can’t cover that kind of grief behind a smile or a blank face. That whatever it was, this one was just too deep, and it kills Naruto a little bit that he can’t figure out what’s bothering him so much.

It’s someone. It’s not Sasuke. So what, did Itachi leave someone behind before his crazy suicide quest? Was he finally having issues because, well, let’s be serious, killing your whole family has got to leave you a bit messed up. No matter what way it went down.

“You have a remarkable instinct for those of us who are most absorbed by our own darkness.” Neji tilts his head, a gentle smile on his lips as Naruto looks sheepishly up at him. “You know I share Tenten’s hesitation, but…” he laughs. “It’s you. What else could it be?”

Damn Neji’s gotten good at that. Getting what’s in his head when he’s still working through it. Naruto is so, so damn glad he’s not dead. He isn’t sure how he’d have gotten by if he was. 

He isn’t sure how Hinata would’ve done it. Hinata. He’s supposed to meet her before he leaves tonight. Wants to too, because he owes her big time. She’s been there supporting him so long and he was a fool about not noticing. Plus she suggested ramen and it’s not like he can resist an invitation like that. 

He’s a little worried she might think it’s something. A date, or something like that. Neji’s going to kill him if Hinata gets the wrong idea, but….

She’s nice. She doesn’t have the baggage he has with Sasuke or Sakura. She likes him for him, not because he’s saved her from whatever’s stuck in her head or something. She’s never been tricked by his fooling around. He wants to be honest with her because of that. He wants to get to know her better as a friend, so ramen, but he doesn’t want her thinking it’s something more unless it really is, because she deserves better than that from him. 

Maybe someday it could be, but not before they’re on the same page. 

Back to Itachi though. “He’s pretty messed up; you’re right.” He shrugs. “Yeah I get it. Who even knows how many people he’s killed aside from his family. But thing is… I don’t think I can punish him more than he’s already punishing himself. Guy was read to die to get his family avenged. Now he’s got to deal with the consequences. No way it’s gonna be easy or should be, but—”

“This isn’t even entirely about him is it,” Neji prompts. Nudging. Sasuke, Naruto knows he means. Of course he thinks that.

“Started that way. Sasuke’s lost everyone. His brother’s the last family he’s got. Maybe Itachi being okay’ll help him, ‘cause everything he’s done isn’t gonna be over any easier. But it’s not just that anymore.”

Tenten tucks her hands under her chin. Looks at him. Naruto shuffles uncomfortably, his cheeks feeling warm. 

He rubs at the back of his head. “You know he likes sweets? First time I brought him something he looked like he thought it’d blow up. Pretty sure he only ate it to be polite. Not sure what got him more, that I found out he liked stuff like that or that I brought it for him or that it was safe. Anyone who’s lived some way to make them like that… so they can’t even trust a little gift in a hospital from their brother’s best friend?”

“Instinct.” That quiet, irritating, knowing laugh of Neji’s follows.

Maybe he’s right. 

Maybe Naruto’s okay with that.

Maybe when he’s Hokage he should fix that. There’s gotta be some better way to deal with all these messed up people he keeps running into. Kage Bunshin aside, he can’t punch everyone saner. 

\--------- 

Sakura tells Itachi that within two weeks he should be discharged from the hospital. It is both longer than Itachi knows he physically needs and also far too soon. He hasn’t figured anything out: what he intends to do with the future he suddenly has, where he intends to go, how he is going to survive in a society he has never been allowed to participate in. 

Sasuke’s unspoken offer of a home stands. That is, possibly, more terrifying. Worse, Itachi isn’t sure he has a better option. He has no money of his own so far as he can tell. Sasuke rightfully inherited the Uchiha fortune; Itachi can’t bring himself to even consider that inheritance is technically his as well. It seems wrong to partake of the blood-seeped coin of men and women he killed. More so because they were his family. 

Theoretically Akatsuki’s funds might still exist, but Itachi has no idea which if any of his former coworkers may have survived and he suspects those accounts have been… discontinued. He has a few caches in multiple countries in case of such desperation, but Itachi sincerely doubts he will have the opportunity to access them and they would offer little. Until he can find work of some kind, he is at the frustrating mercy of his brother’s good will. 

Itachi resists venting that frustration to Sakura when she tells him. He resists showing Sasuke his discomfort when that silent offer rears its head. He resists allowing Naruto to see anymore glimpses through his mask. 

Naruto is too good at getting through his mask. How in the hell did his brother resist that boy so long? Damn him, the worst of it is tiny, indescribable similarities Itachi can draw between Naruto’s chattering and that of the partner he misses more than he misses his physical competence. More than he misses the freedom of the road and the stability of knowing exactly where all of his terminal plans were leading him. 

He never thought he would miss anyone like this, let alone Kisame. His absence eats at Itachi more and more.

Why didn’t he realize he felt this way when he had a chance to act on it? 

He slips up. Perhaps he feels unsettled by the nearness of leaving the hospital. Perhaps he feels off balance because Naruto is Naruto and he has a charisma that is impossible to resist. Perhaps he is a fool. That seems the best answer. He is a damned fool.

“We visited this shop the last time we came to Konoha.”

Naruto brought him dango from a familiar teahouse on the outskirts of town. They’re excellent. They’re soft and just the right kind of sweet. Kisame teased him for eating five sticks. 

“We?” Naruto asks, curious.

“My partner.”

“That shark guy right?”

Itachi laughs softly. “Hoshigake Kisame.” He can’t help correcting Naruto. “I suspect he would appreciate the comparison. He is very fond of his summons.” A moment’s hesitation. “He was.”

Itachi’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He sets the last stick of dango aside. Then he realizes he is revealing more than he wishes to and offers it to Naruto. “They’re very good.”

Naruto takes it. He thanks him with a grin. He gives Itachi a look that is just a little too calculating, ideas spinning, connections ticking into place. 

Itachi realizes he has to stop doing this. Kisame is dead. He cannot keep losing himself in mourning him. He must accept Kisame’s death and file the memories of him away into a private place where he can cherish them alone, or he must learn to speak of them without betraying every secret in his heart each time he does. 

He has two more weeks to hide before he must face a world he never intended to see. The least he can do is prepare himself to survive it. 

He still isn’t sure whether to consider it a punishment or a gift.  
\---------- 

Having someone in the room with him when he wakes has become routine. Since Itachi has regained enough strength to use his chakra in subtle ways, such as sensing the familiarity of another person’s, he is typically able to tell whether his companion is a threat. This particular companion is not his brother, but he feels so familiar that at first Itachi allows himself to be lulled back to sleep. 

Sakura is probably checking up on him again.

But that isn’t Sakura’s chakra. 

Itachi allows the wheels of the Sharingan to color his eyes and peeks them open in tiny slits to get a glimpse of his companion’s chakra and confirm them. The Sharingan doesn’t sting his eyes anymore: not so long as he uses it briefly. He hasn’t attempted the Mangekyo and isn’t entirely sure he wants to. He knows that having Sasuke’s eyes should keep him safe from their degenerative effects, but he still has little chakra reserved for use. He never had much to begin with, compared to most ninja of his caliber, so he is used to working sparingly, but most of it is still focused in boosting his questionable health. 

He can, however, afford to waste a tiny amount to answer the very strange question before him. He quickly rules out his brother and Naruto. Both feel so distinct as to be unmistakable for anyone else. Itachi gets very few visitors, so he can narrow the other possibilities down to three. 

He cracks his eyes open, and finds a fourth answer staring him in the face. 

At first he thinks it is an illusion. He closes his eyes and wills himself out of the dream he must be in. 

“Good morning Itachi.”

But damn that voice. Damn his eyes. There isn’t another answer. Itachi pushes himself out of his bed as forcefully as he is able and lunges at his former partner, aiming a quick punch at his head.

A punch that Kisame easily catches. A punch that Kisame laughs at him for. A punch that takes just enough energy that Itachi knows he is visibly trembling as he stands, for he hasn’t dismissed the Sharingan either and he can feel a dry ache in his lungs building. 

If he can’t even do this much then he is in no condition to defend himself yet. Which complicates things.

Hoshigaki Kisame is dead. That is the truth that Itachi has accepted. So this person he is allowing to fold his hand down to his side must be an imposter. This person cannot be who they look, smell, feel like.

Itachi’s Sharingan eyes have never lied to him. He can see the ocean-deep blue of Kisame’s chakra beneath his skin. Only Kisame has chakra like that.

His eyes must be lying to him. 

“You’re dead.”

Kisame chuckles. “So are you. I buried you.”

Itachi laughs with him. He tucks his head down and shakes with his laughter, unable to accept and yet unable to deny the truth of a truth he thought he accepted, because this has to be Kisame here before him. The only other explanation is that someone is playing a game that Itachi doesn’t have the strength to fight, and if that game has given him the one thing, the one thing, that he has mourned as missing in his reborn life than who is he to struggle against it.

Kisame catches him as his knees give out. He’s seen Itachi in worse condition, and Itachi suspects he’s grateful that for once actually can shove Itachi back into his bed and keep him there. It must be like some perverse dream come true for him, to finally have an opportunity to treat Itachi like the invalid he has been for….

….Itachi doesn’t even remember exactly how many years. Three? Four? His illness was never something to dwell over beyond what he needed to fight it off just long enough for Sasuke to find him. 

Itachi has a moment to look his partner over. To seek out signs and details that might give him some impression of how Kisame has fared. He is thinner than Itachi remembers. His high cheekbones have a gaunt stretch beneath them that wasn’t there before. He is wearing the clothes of a nondescript traveler, for all non-descript was never something he could manage well. New scars peek out from beneath his short sleeves, running along his biceps. A significant one follows the exact line of his jaw in a jagged, bulging line. It looks like the skin was scraped away rather than cut. 

The Samehada is nowhere to be seen. Given Kisame’s devotion to his sword, Itachi knows better than to ask. If Kisame wishes to tell him, he will. 

Itachi sits himself upon his bed, back pressed to the wall, and ignores the relief, the absolute flood of emotion that is rolling in his gut. He isn’t ready to deal with it, so he pushes it away. “How did you find me?” Exactly why the medic-nins let him in is a better question. Exactly why isn’t anyone breaking down the door and accusing them of trying to restart Akatsuki in Itachi’s sickroom?

“That Kyuubi brat is surprisingly hard to say no to.” Naruto. Damn it all this was Naruto’s fault. Itachi realizes his slips were more than mere slips. Did Naruto actually take it upon himself to hunt Kisame down because he knew Itachi was mourning him? The mortifying possibility that Naruto of all people has read into his heart so well claws at Itachi’s mind. If Naruto knows than who else? Has he been so obvious?

Itachi stops. No. He hasn’t been. 

Naruto is simply unnaturally perceptive of the emotions of others. What he lacks in rote intelligence… Itachi can’t entirely say his gift is inferior to that. How long have ninja across the world suppressed their emotional intelligence in favor of stoicism and analytical calculation? Apparently so long that even moderate emotional competence looks like genius.

Once again Itachi wonders at what sort of stubborn asshole his brother must be to resist that.

“Itachi?”

Itachi shakes himself. Where Naruto would allow him his silence, Kisame has known Itachi too long to let him linger in his head in a situation like this: presented with a shock he isn’t entirely processing. Kisame also has an unusual emotional competence where Itachi is concerned at the very least. “I was made aware what you did with my body,” Itachi tells him. Bitterly he remarks, “You should have burned me.”

“Apparently not.”

No. Itachi smiles. Apparently not. Does Kisame realize that the tomb he built saved Itachi’s life? How smug will he be when Itachi tells him? Itachi knows he will tell him eventually, but not yet. For now he’d rather savor the moment. “I thought you were dead.”

“Everyone was supposed to think that.” Kisame tells Itachi the story. His battle with the Eight-tailed Junchiriki and Konoha ninjas. His defeat at their hands. His capture. How he lost the Samehada, wherein his tone grows bitter. Kisame loved that sword a little too much. He tells Itachi how he escaped: a simple substitution jutsu combined with a shape change and one of his own summons as he raced for what was left of their organization with the information they needed to succeed. Then how he left. 

“You faked your death?” Itachi asks him. He knows he sounds a little smug, perhaps a little overly satisfied, because Kisame, of all people, faked his death. All of his desire for truth and… “You lied.” 

What sort of waking world is this, where Itachi has chosen truth over his lies, and Kisame has lied to save his own life? 

“Lies are a truth of our shinobi world,” Kisame preaches. Itachi hates it when he does that, but it’s rare enough and never an attempt to sway Itachi’s own ideals. “Besides, what our organization wanted was a lie in the end anyway.”

An infinite world of lies. Kisame isn’t wrong. 

“How long can you stay?” Itachi fights back the urge to request he leave with Kisame. For familiarity’s sake, for home’s sake, because he has not had a home in years except for his place by Kisame’s side. And Kisame’s place by his. 

Itachi knows better. He cannot defend himself yet. He would be an unacceptable burden and he cannot allow that. 

“I’m still a missing-nin, Itachi,” Kisame reminds him. “Your Kyuubi friend seems to be able to talk the Hokage into a lot, but not letting me stay long. I’m not a favorite here.” Itachi gets the vague impression that Kisame is suggesting he is, which bothers him a little. 

When Itachi fidgets in answer, Kisame grins at him. “A couple days. And once you’re strong enough, I’ll tell you where to find me.”

Once he’s strong enough. 

Suddenly, Itachi realizes he has a reason to become strong enough. More than to protect his brother, and defend himself. A reason to be strong enough to leave the village and set out on his own. 

He has a goal to fight for. 

He feels the Sharingan redden his eyes. Well, one thing he and his brother have in common: Itachi finds it difficult to resist such a challenge. 

\--------

Around three months after Itachi wakes in the Konoha hospital, he moves in with his brother. Who is, it turns out, dubiously capable of taking care of a home. Oh, the dishes are washed (most of them are take-out containers), and the floor is swept, and almost everything is in some kind of neat order, but the sink is partially clogged and several of the electrical outlets need rewiring. There are a myriad of tiny details that, left unfixed, are going to cause them problems in the long run.

Too many years of living out of shit inns has given Itachi some working understanding of most basic household problems. In some of those places it was far easier to fix a problem themselves than to wait on the innkeeper to bother or care. 

Fixing such things gives Itachi something to do between the light training he is forced to resort to until his body can handle more and learning how to live with his brother.

Among the larger adjustments are Sasuke’s visitors. Naruto is there almost daily, as if he fears Sasuke will disappear on him again, which is a fear Itachi thinks is quite founded. His brother doesn’t seem entirely settled in the village. He doesn’t like to go outside unless he is training or has to. He is adapting slowly to the loss of his arm, but has refused the artificial replacement Naruto has obviously accepted. 

Itachi suspects he knows why. Naruto’s artificial fingers seem less dexterous than those on his good hand, but that alone would not fuel his brother’s stubbornness. Having to rely on someone else for its upkeep. Worse, owing someone for its creation at all. Given Sasuke’s own tendency to hate relying on others and his thin attachment to Konoha, Itachi sees it as a symbol of his brother’s reluctance to be tied down for long.

Thus, Naruto’s well founded concern. Even if Naruto doesn’t see that particular sign. 

Sakura visits equally frequently, but in a subtler manner. She brings Sasuke meals occasionally if she comes at an appropriate time and uses either them or the excuse of checking on Itachi’s health to invite herself in. Sasuke is never able to refuse her. Itachi suspects that is more due to his brother’s guilt than Sakura’s excuses. 

They don’t talk much. Sakura brings Sasuke manuals on new ninjutsu or interesting novels. Her taste, Itachi finds, is far superior when not limited by the options available in the hospital. He has borrowed a few himself after Sasuke has read them. Sometimes she brings Naruto over, or another few friends, and the group of them gang up on Sasuke until he agrees to play cards or board games with them. That, oddly, is how Itachi meets several of his brother’s year-mates, including at least one Akimichi boy, a boy from the Inuzuka clan, a Yamanaka, an Aburame, two Hyuugas, Maito Gai’s favorite apprentice, and a girl who keeps an intriguing number of weapons on her at all times, even for a shinobi. 

He wonders exactly how his stand-offish brother managed to befriend an heir to almost every major clan in Konoha until he realizes abruptly that these friends are Naruto’s fault. Then everything makes sense. 

He accepts Naruto’s vicarious challenge to a game of chess on Shikamaru’s behalf once. For once he actually finds himself challenged. He is intrigued enough that he accepts the second suggestion of Shikamaru’s preferred game, Shogi, which he loses gracefully at. 

Such occasional energetic invasions are not so common as to overwhelm Itachi, and somehow he feels more at ease after they end than he expects to. Probably because he feels under no obligation to interact unless he wants to. His brother, on the other hand, complains viciously to Sakura and Naruto when they leave, threatening them both uselessly if they ever do it again.

Sasuke enjoys them too. Itachi is glad to see he has so many people surrounding him. 

The stranger visits come from Sasuke’s other former teammates. Those he stole from Orochimaru. They are far rarer occurrences, and far more invasive for their rarity. Itachi is most definitely going to threaten bodily harm to Karin if she asks to inspect his eyes one more time. Suigetsu annoys Itachi simply because he reminds him too much of Kisame and equally not enough. Their personalities could not be more different, but that familiar flash of blue-tinged skin and sharp teeth sets Itachi on edge. He has no idea how to feel about Jugo any more than he has any idea how to feel about the fact that these people are still clearly in contact with Orochimaru.

Who is still clearly alive. 

Asshole. 

Naruto’s private visits are the ones Itachi feels the most like an invader during. 

He can imagine the pair of them as children. Before the war began, before Itachi pushed his brother into leaving the village, before the betrayal and heartache. He can imagine their competition with each other, the constant push and pull, the shouting, the meaningless threats, the unspoken comradery.

He sees hints of it when Naruto brings Sasuke snacks he doesn’t ask for and they sit together on the back porch with cups of tea between them and don’t say a word. He sees the bonds in their mirrored injuries, the absolute unspoken comfort in their postures, the way they can just be together. Now, with everything between them, their war is at last at an end. 

They understand each other so well now that they don’t need words between them. 

Itachi aches a little watching them. 

“Do you love him?” he asks his brother once, when Naruto leaves. He feels like a voyeur, like he has invaded their space just by being present. 

Sasuke shrugs. “Did you love your partner?”

That answers the question simply enough. 

Itachi realizes he desperately needs something to do before he becomes an old man watching over his brother’s intimacies. 

\---------

Hatake Kakashi looks almost exactly the same as he did the last time Itachi saw him. More importantly, he looks absolutely ridiculous in Hokage garb, which is probably why he is wearing the bare minimum of it necessary at the moment. Itachi’s isn’t exactly a formal meeting. 

“Naruto said you’re looking for work.” Did he now? Curse that kid. Itachi mentioned once that he wanted some way to support himself beyond his brother’s charity and now here he is seated with the current Hokage. The last time he met like this with a Hokage...

…didn’t end well. 

So Itachi feels he has every reason to have his back up here. He can hardly imagine Kakashi would want him for anything less than his now marginally competent shinobi skills. (He does realize objectively that he is more than competent by most ninja’s standards, but he is nowhere near his own. He is certainly nowhere near where he’d like to be: able to handle himself in just about any situation and more importantly able to remove himself from just about any situation before it escalates.) Kakashi knows that Itachi cannot yet handle a sustained mission. He doesn’t have the stamina, and prolonged use of his chakra could cause his illness to relapse. That, unfortunately, is something Itachi realizes he will never be able to avoid. He can’t expect the former Fifth Hokage and Sakura to fix him again. 

He should have realized, however, that Kakashi is not the Third Hokage. He is not Danzo. He knows what Itachi has been forced to do and thus he likely understands where Itachi’s line is. He will not be Konoha’s fall-man again. He can’t do that to his brother. He can’t do that to himself. He knows very well that if he were given such an order again, he might do something everyone will regret. 

“We’ve got enough shinobi helping with repairs, continuing missions, etcetera, but all the damage has caused other problems.” Kakashi holds a file out to Itachi. Itachi removes his glasses from his pocket and reads through it quickly. “We’ve got civilians and ninja taking advantage of the situation, and I don’t have enough competent ninja to deal with them, especially the ninja. We need these cases investigated, we need evidence to try them, and we need them captured.”

Some of the criminals on the list are names Itachi vaguely recognizes. The accusations are of theft, intimidation, extortion and two murders. It occurs to Itachi that Konoha barely has a working domestic police force now, which is his own fault, and that Kakashi is right. These actions cannot go unanswered if the nation is to have peace. 

“I am not yet able to capture some of these individuals myself.” It irritates Itachi to admit it, especially to someone like Kakashi, a man only a couple years older than himself. A genius in his own right who Itachi once provided a serious challenge to. Some of the listed suspects are, in fact, people he is certain his reputation alone will intimidate into silence. But others….

“You’ll have a team when you make arrests. I know a few people who’d be willing to work with you.”

Not many, Itachi suspects, but if he is reading Kakashi correctly he won’t need “many.”

What draws Itachi to this work is that he is being given leave to investigate the crimes on his own terms. That he is being asked to provide evidence of guilt. He is being asked, in effect, to actually be certain those he arrests are guilty.

Power, but tempered by reason. Authority he doesn’t really deserve to be trusted with, but with oversight. He isn’t he one who will determine whether his evidence is sufficient to punish these people, but he will have the freedom to ensure what is gathered is done adequately.

“I would like to think on it.” He wants it, but he does need to process the option. It is a rather large opportunity.

Kakashi grins beneath his mask. “I’ll hear from you soon then.”

\--------

Itachi does at one point ask Kakashi if he may investigate and arrest Orochimaru. Much to his irritation, Kakashi forbids it on the grounds that Orochimaru’s motives have never ultimately been to overthrow the peace. 

So until he causes direct trouble, he is off limits.

Itachi has the sneaky, aggravating suspicion that Kakashi is trying to protect him. Or keep him from starting a fight with his brother. 

He decides to keep watch. For now, that snake may live another day. 

\--------

Itachi acts as Kakashi’s personal investigative agent for three years. In three years he and Sasuke come to something of a peace with each other. Itachi finds his own apartment nearby, and then they are truly able to live with each other. They have just enough in common to drive each other insane if in too close quarters for too long.

In their case, verbal fights have the potential to bring up real, dark, harmful truths. Itachi is too quick with a painful word. Sasuke is too quick to take them seriously, and too reckless not to throw Itachi’s guilt back in his face. 

Sasuke always feels guilty himself when he does so. Itachi doesn’t think he should. What he says is the truth, a truth that Itachi is learning to live with. Itachi knows he will never escape his crimes and he doesn’t really want to, but the presence of such options in a simple spat leads to too much potential for harm between them.

Living apart is far less stressful. It also gives Itachi a sense of independence and ownership that he relishes. It means that when he offers to teach Sasuke one-handed jutsu, or at least coach him on improving what he has thus far figured out on his own, Sasuke doesn’t immediately assume Itachi thinks him incompetent. To Itachi it is a simple matter of experience, but to Sasuke, having his elder, reportedly cleverer brother point out even the slightest flaw can be trying, especially with irritating personal living habits in the way.

Like the way that, now that he is relatively healthy, Itachi cannot sleep unless there is total silence, whereas Sasuke needs some kind of consistent white noise. Or that Sasuke leaves his take-out containers in a pile near the sink when Itachi prefers to cook for himself and must therefore clean them up to reveal the limited counter space their apartment has.

There have been benefits to three years of work. Itachi cannot sustain an extended mission on his own, but he can fight again. He has reached his ultimate goal: he can defend himself adequately according to his own expectations, and thus further possibilities now exist. He can, perhaps, take up Kisame’s offer to visit or join him in his journeys without fearing he would be a burden.

He can use the Mangekyo Sharingan again in a limited capacity. Sakura is kind enough to agree to help him experiment with his physical limits, the degree to which draining his chakra might trigger his disease. It has been in remission for three years with the help of consistent medication and careful monitoring. Itachi has no intention of allowing himself to relapse if he can help it. He cannot account for a spontaneous relapse, but he can keep himself from accidently triggering one. 

He can ideally use his Mangekyo’s jutsu twice before he should stop and rest. Three times without severe danger. More than that could stress his body enough to trigger a relapse. He will never again be able to defeat his brother in a serious duel. Sasuke’s Sharingan have progressed well beyond his anyway, and he has the unfortunate capacity to sustain himself much longer. 

Itachi can be satisfied knowing that aside from several of the world’s most powerful shinobi, he can defend himself against just about anything else. 

He falls into the comfortable routine of having a life, for once, that is not overshadowed by secrets. A life wherein he can visit a local shop or restaurant without being immediately recognized and feared. Recognized yes, scrutinized yes, but no one is likely to try and capture or attack him. He watches the unnecessarily complicated dance his brother and his brother’s two friends pace around each other, a tangle of heavy emotion and regrets and expectations.

Sasuke proposes to Sakura. Their quiet peace with each other blossoms into a steady affection tempered by their pasts. When Itachi asks Sakura why she accepts, she does her best to explain. “I do love him. I always have. Now, I think I love the real him more than the idea I had of him, but….”

Itachi wonders.

“…I know he isn’t going to stick around. He can’t, and I don’t mind that. I want to be a place he can be at peace, that he can always come back to.”

“He wouldn’t appreciate you giving up yourself for him.”

“No. And that’s why I think we can work. I know he will never hold me back.” Ah. That’s it. There’s a fierce light in Sakura’s eyes as she says it. “I’m going to continue my medical profession. I’m going to be in Konoha most of the time because of it. But the way our society is, most kunoichi that marry never keep working. That isn’t going to happen to me, and I know he will never ask that of me.”

“Do you want children?” Itachi wonders why she wants to marry at all, if she recognizes that cultural nuance. She isn’t wrong. It isn’t something Itachi has ever needed to consider before, but he supposes someone as competent as Sakura is would need to face that pressure. He is glad to see her resisting it. 

“Maybe. I don’t know. Mostly I want a family. Naruto already knows he is my family, but I want Sasuke to be absolutely certain he is too.”

All of this is far, far more complicated than Itachi deems necessary. 

Family. Itachi thinks about her meaning of the word. She has parents, parents she cares about even, but they aren’t who she means. Family she has created through blood and sweat and tears and love. Family not by blood, but forged in it. Family of the heart, that is what Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, and all of their friends are to each other. 

Itachi thinks of Kisame, and he wonders. 

“And Naruto?” he asks Sakura.

Sakura smiles. “Naruto doesn’t need me to marry him for him to know I love him too.”  
\--------

Itachi isn’t certain what he will say to Kisame when he meets him. Having the opportunity to make him this offer at his own discretion is a measure of liberty he never expected to be granted, but the five Kages have made their decision.

Oddly it’s one that Itachi agrees with. It is for the purpose of maintaining the peace. It might actually succeed if it is built carefully and has the cooperation of all five major nations. Lesser ones will be forced to bow to its authority or face retaliation. Itachi means for his new organization to prove its value before that happens. 

He is still baffled by the trust being placed upon him, giving him personal control over an international team of investigators whose sole purpose is to seek out renowned criminals and not kill them, this time, but investigate their doings and bring them to justice for their crimes.

The similarities to his work as ANBU do not go unnoticed. Slight changes make all the difference.

This is a public organization. He will not be doing his work undercover or in secret. This is an organization with the cooperation of all five Kages, and thus he answers to any of them. His organization can only be used with the cooperation of all five nations, and thus he knows he will not be thrust into a covert operation to undermine another nation.

Itachi knows Kakashi chose him specifically because he would not allow himself to be used in such a way. Never again. Better, now that he has recovered as much as he ever will, he is a physical challenge to any one Kage in himself. 

They can never force him to comply, not without consequences. 

Such an offer requires implicit trust in his loyalty and in his ultimate commitment to peace. 

Offering to allow him to create his own team, well…. Itachi wonders whether Kakashi knew exactly what he was going to do in response to that. That he has become so predictable irritates him a little bit. What mollifies him is that if Kakashi did realize his intentions and did not stop him, then he has accepted them. 

Which is good, because there is no one else Itachi would rather have at his side, and his Hokage is simply going to have to accept that anyway. Better if he starts accepting before Itachi forces him to. 

Itachi still doesn’t know what Kisame will say. Help him expose those who haunt the dark underbelly of the shinobi world, bring their crimes into the light of day, and prevent them from dismantling their fragile peace. It is a daunting task that Itachi is asking of him.

Perhaps Kisame will say no.

Perhaps this experiment will amount to nothing. 

\-------

Kisame, teasing aside, says yes. He also apparently has constructed himself a nice little beach home south of Water country that Itachi would like to visit again.

Maybe things really will work out after all. 

\-------

“Director.”

“Sasuke.”

Seven years have passed. Itachi props his chin in his hands and stares across his desk at his little brother. 

“You have another mission for me?”

He resists the urge to tell Sasuke no. Sasuke is, unfortunately, one of his best agents, and Itachi has pressing, world saving business he must use him to attend to. He does not choose to prod his brother about his home life, about the fact that he should most definitely be making his way to see his wife and best friend before he comes here for another mission.

Sasuke is, unfortunately, stubborn. And Itachi is not going to work that mess out for him. He will, however, reserve a note for Sakura and for Naruto and inform them tonight that Sasuke is well and healthy, and, obviously, a fool for not saying hello.

Kisame leans himself against the edge of Itachi’s desk as Sasuke leaves, mission in hand. He offers Itachi a packet of dango he must have escaped work to obtain. Itachi takes it greedily. 

“He knows the new Hokage’s being invested tonight right?”

Itachi smiles.

“It’s a new world, Kisame. No one can force him to accept it.”

No one can. Nothing can but time.

**Author's Note:**

> [Yes I might headcanon that Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke and Hinata are in some form of polyamorous relationship where in the marriages are 90% for convenience and everyone loves each other anyway. Feel free to read into everything as you wish.]
> 
> [One of Naruto’s first acts as Hokage is to help create a Ninja Mental Health Program, because as much as he’d like to, he really can’t punch everyone saner. Therapists for everyone!]


End file.
